


Now and for all Time

by Archadian_Skies



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Background Relationships, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 04:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11547495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: A Demon, a Portal, a Key and all of time itself; William T. Spears finds himself on an unexpected journey to reunite with Grell.





	1. Chapter 1

****

The demon is fast, frustratingly so, and though he won’t admit it he’s glad he’s got Sutcliff by his side. The demon is unpredictable, erratically so, and the equally unpredictable Reaper is the only one who can keep up with it.

When it comes to fights like this, she’s feral, ferociously so, and he’s glad she’s with him and not against him. Sort of.

Grell does as Grell pleases, but the fight is vicious and exhilarating and all the things she loves to describe in breathless rambles he cannot begin to understand. She flips overhead and he swings his Scythe to catch beneath her heels and boost her up like a springboard. She’s laughing that dark, manic laugh that rattles against cobblestones and she’s a monster, but the Division’s monster and not the Demon’s.

On the far side he can see a smudge of blonde and black as Ronald desperately tries to open the looming doorway between realms. The key is old and the incantations intricate, and whilst Grell’s been tasked with distracting the Demon, the young Reaper is trying to get them home in one piece.

“Got it!” He shouts, and William’s running as fast as his aching body can carry him just as Grell parts a good chunk of flesh from the Demon’s body.

“Sutcliff!” He’s calling, and she blows the twitching Demon a kiss before hitting the ground running.

“Hurry!” Ronald urges, and he’s standing between realms, hand outstretched. William takes his hand, reaching behind to offer his other to Grell.

Time did not flow like honey as Grell often envisioned aloud, no, it seemed to double in speed as the dying Demon swipes her down, and William is jerked from Ronald’s grasp and the boy tumbles through the portal, leaving the ornate key in his palm.

He’s holding Grell’s hand in a vice-like grip, pulling her from the enraged Demon, and she’s kicking desperately at its massive, mangled paw in an attempt to free herself. They time it right, and he pulls just as she kicks and they tumble backwards and she falls through the portal with a cry of his name that clips short of completion.

He’s back on his feet a moment later, and he doesn’t have the luxury of looking over his shoulder, no, so he powers forward through the portal.

 

And Grell is short-haired, unimpressed, and cocking a brow.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Well come on then, B-grade nobody.” She rolls her eyes at him, hands on her hips and he can only stare at her in confusion. “Hello? Anyone home? We’re observing the mouse today, remember? Thomas Wallis?”

“Grell.”

“Yes. That’s my name, well done.” She’s scowling, disdainfully so, and his head hurts.

“Why is your hair short?” Is all he can blurt out, and the Grell in front of him is definitely Grell but not the Grell he knows.

“Because it’s Division regulation, you brat. Otherwise I’d grow it much longer.” She pinches the ends of her hair, frowning.

“We were just in a fight.”

“I know. I handed your arse back to you in the training room.” She’s smirking now, chest puffed with pride.

“No, Ronald had to get the portal open-”

“Who’s Ronald?” She cocks a brow. “Ronald Wernicke, our Engineering professor?”

“No, he’s-” William looks her over and he knows this Grell,  _had known_  this Grell back when they’d been students at the Academy. But that had been over a century ago, nearly two.

“We’re wasting time and I’m not failing because you’re sleep-deprived and loopy.” She declares, pivoting and marching away from him.

The key still sits heavily in his hand from when Ronald had lost his grip and transferred it to him. He walks to the nearest door and eases it into the lock. It fits.

It turns.

The door opens.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“I remember when  _I_  mentored  _him_  and now he’s mentoring someone else!” Grell giggles with amusement, perched on the edge of his desk as he walks into his office. When he stands at her side he can see Eric shaking hands with a nervous, young graduate Alan Humphries.

She’s Grell and he knows her, had known this Grell with her red hair brushing just beneath her shoulder blades and about half a century of field experience and a decade of mentoring beneath her definitely against regulation belt.

“What’s wrong Will? Getting all nostalgic?” She elbows him gently, grinning in response to his silence and his head hurts and why is she  _this_  Grell and not the Grell from-

“We were just in a fight.” He tries, hoping she’ll remember.

“I already told you I had nothing to do with that student’s scythe blueprints, alright.” She huffs, tossing her hair. “He came up with it on his own. I just gave a few pointers.”

“Ronald.”

“Knox, right?” Grell taps her lips in thought. “I think that’s his name.”

He excuses himself, and slides the key into the locked door of his private suite.

 


	4. Chapter 4

There’s red, so much red splayed out on the sheets like silk threads, and the black bed linens make her pale skin glow. She’s sleeping soundly and when he gets closer he can see that she’s wearing a ring and the white gold ring on her left hand matches the white gold ring on his left hand.

She’s Grell but he doesn’t know this Grell, not this seductive incarnation sleeping in his bed wearing nought but one of his work shirts. He doesn’t know her, but he hopes to.

He reaches to brush the hair from her cheek, and traces the curve of her jaw with the back of his fingers. He doesn’t know her, but he wants to.

William tugs the sheets up over her shoulders, and the kiss he leaves on her temple is one of longing and desire.

The key fits into the lock of his study and when the door opens he’s in the Infirmary and she hates him, absolutely loathes him and curses as she’s restrained.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“You’d never understand, you heartless bastard!” She screeches, and twists in pain as the medical staff try to tend to her wounds. She’s livid with rage and he can see the Notice of Suspension papers strewn all over the floor from when she’d thrown them.

“Then help me understand.” He asks, and it’s enough to make her pause.

“I loved her and she betrayed me.” She spits, lips curled in a scowl. “Useless woman. And now I can’t even do what I love doing because you’re suspending me pending my trial!”

“That Demon could have killed you! I could have lost you!” He can feel the anger bristling in his veins as all the familiar memories bring up the same familiar frustration.

“I am not yours to lose!” Grell shouts, and oh yes he knows this Grell, had known this Grell who would be suspended, trialled, and demoted after her stint as Jack the Ripper. “How dare you pretend you care for me, when all you’re doing is saving yourself from extra work!”

She throws a clipboard at him, and he dodges it as he jams the key into the door and twists the handle.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The room is hallowed and hollow, and cold, cold enough to seep into his bones and make him shiver. His breath condenses in wisps and it’s Winter outside and inside too.

He’s in the Memorial Tower and the marble is icy to the touch, and his footsteps echo loud enough to make him cringe. There are roses in his hand, a bouquet of blood red blooms wrapped in black paper, and he’s walking down rows and rows of memorial portraits and he knows what he’s going to find but he doesn’t want to.

Her portrait is framed in cherry lacquer and her smile is smug. He doesn’t know this Grell, and he doesn’t ever want to.

He leaves the roses for her, and slides the key into the door of the Records Office. The key seems heavier in his hand.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Ronald is nursing fresh stitches on his chest, and Grell’s torso is wrapped in bandages, the redhead sedated on the bed beside the young Reaper.

“Whatever reports you’re gonna demand of us,” Ronald’s voice is tired, “I’ll do hers as well as mine.”

It takes him a moment to remember, and he realizes they’re back from the Campania mission and the legendary Reaper he so admires is the one who almost cut them down. For amusement, no less.

He can only nod, and they are pale, far too pale from bloodloss and fatigue and though he leaves the reports on the side table, he instructs that it can wait until the morrow. Ronald’s smile is tired but grateful.

The Chief of Medicine’s door opens into the main floor of Dispatch and-


	8. Chapter 8

Ronald is complaining that all Eric ever does is eat the food and yet he still leaves with the prettiest, sassiest lass on his arm. Alan chides him but there’s no malice in his tone as he smiles.

The Lists aren’t matching with the Records, and Grell has an inkling it’s got everything to do with that child and  _that_  Demon. She’s only partly right, because he knows this Grell and he knows this story but it ends well for no one.

Alan is indignant when Eric suggests he needs backup, but William knows he needs it, will need it when his strength fails him.

After the missions are handed out, with Ronald tailing him, he unlocks the door to his office and-


	9. Chapter 9

Grell’s flung herself across his desk dramatically.

“William I can’t possibly mentor  _another_  graduate!” She pouts and it’s ineffective and they both know it.

“This one has expressed a desire to wield motorised scythes. You already know him.” The words are familiar on his tongue, and he can see a smudge of blonde and black waiting patiently in the reception area.

“Knox, right?” Grell sits up, interest piqued. “Oh, well the lad can’t be  _that_  bad.”

William knows he isn’t, knows Grell will take to mentoring him with great passion and mischief, knows the pair will be like squabbling siblings from that day on. Grell leaves his office, Ronald’s files in her manicured hands and when she corrects his use of male pronouns for her, he never lapses in addressing her as female.

The key feels warm in his palm when he uses it for the filing room.


	10. Chapter 10

It’s Spring and even narrow cobblestone alleyways feel warm and bright. Eric Slingby and Alan Humphries freeze upon sight, and though their clothes look worse for wear, they are alive.

Alan’s eyes are wide with fright, and Eric hesitates before drawing his Scythe and holding it defensively.

“What happened?” Is all William can ask, and cautiously Eric explains that the Demon cut him down, and Alan’s cured but only just and they’re running, running from him and the Division and execution.

He doesn’t know this tale, had only known the bad ending where the deaths of his colleagues had been reported and heathers were planted over empty graves and the gravity of the situation hung over his team for months. Ronald had been a lost pup, and Grell fluctuated between guilt and anger, tears and tantrums that both ended in bloodshed.

He doesn’t know this tale, but he wants to.

“Go.” He instructs, and Eric almost weeps in relief. “Leave London. I will not follow.”

Alan’s touch is warm as the young Reaper shakes his hand in gratitude. He reaches into his pocket and draws out a different key.

“Get cleaned up. Take what you need.” Eric nods obediently as he’s passed his house key. “Lock up and leave this in the bird feeder.”

Alan thanks him profusely, his eyes glazed with either fever or emotions or perhaps both, and William never sees them again.

The key is lighter in his palm, and the warmth in his chest can’t have only come from the Spring sunshine, he thinks, as he opens the service door and steps through.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The moon at midnight paints the ritualistic courtyard in silvery hues, and Ronald is doubled over panting, hands on his knees. Grell is brushing creases from her trousers, and she’s splattered with black demon blood and singed by hellfire.

He strides across the rune-paved courtyard and pulls her into his arms, embracing her tightly and burying his nose in her hair. She laughs, her body shaking as she twines her arms around him in return.

“Well now,” Grell smiles when they part, “I guess that’s that.”

* * *

 

The key remains in his desk drawer, and he doesn’t notice it go missing the day Grell leaves for an S Class assignment. Only a box of her personal belongings makes it back to the Division, along with a Certificate of Death.

When he comes home one evening to find her sitting on his bed, key clutched so tightly in her hand as to draw blood, he thinks nothing of it and just presses a kiss to her lips in relief.


End file.
